In Sickness and Health
by Fairady
Summary: Marriage is sacred, even if it is a drunken mistake. Daryl x Glenn
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Kink meme wanted something where the boys got drunk married before the ZA occurred and they could get a divorce. And where they would take their drunken vows seriously.

In Sickness and Health  
by Fairady

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Glenn wakes up and immediately wishes he could pass right back out.

His head pounds in time with his heart and his stomach is rising in what promises to be a nasty revolt if he so much as considers moving from the bed he's in. Carefully squinting his eyes open, he takes stock of his situation.

He has only the vaguest memories of the night before. Drinks and a change of music that might have been him going to a new bar. A cab ride somewhere, and the distinct feeling he wasn't alone. It's not much to go on but his higher brain functions are too consumed with misery to be of any further help.

It takes him an entire minute to register two facts. One, that the water in the bathroom —and look at that, he's in his hotel room— is running. Two, he's completely buck ass naked.

Glenn slowly rolls over toward the edge of the bed and spies a pair of boxers lying within arm's reach. They're not his, but a little more effort doesn't turn up any article of clothing that's his. He should care about that but he's too miserable to even try caring. Putting the strange boxers on is a feat of pure physics as Glenn tries not to move too quickly, not wanting to upset the careful balance that has his stomach keeping it's contents down.

Dressed he gets up and shuffles to the bathroom. There are two things in there he needs to see. One, the most important, is the toilet which he will need very soon. The second is probably the person he ended up sharing the room with. While naked. He's not quite up for dealing with the second, but somewhere in the back of his mind —the part not consumed with the chant of _don't throw up yet_— he knows he'll have at least see that he hasn't hooked up with some mass murderer or something.

He gets a brief glimpse of a man leaning over the sink with his head under the faucet before his body notices his close proximity to the toilet, and all his careful work goes out the window as his stomach decides it's time to forcefully expel its entire contents. The next several minutes of Glenn's life suck.

He's thankfully alone in the bathroom when he starts dry heaving. Glenn spits several times before stretching cautiously. His stomach is still not happy with him, but doesn't lurch at the moment and he feels safe enough to stand up. The sink is still running and Glenn gratefully sticks his head in it. Rinsing his mouth of the foul taste of last nights alcohol before drinking, carefully, enough water to quench his sudden thirst.

It's enough to almost make him human. Human enough to know he has to face up to what probably happened last night. With a low groan. Glenn shuts off the water and shakes his head, spraying droplets of water everywhere, before going for the now closed door.

He doesn't have to look far. The man he'd seen earlier is in the room, wearing a pair of worn jeans, and standing over a table with paper strewn on it. His back is too Glenn giving him a rather nice sight of muscles and tattoos. It's a nice enough sight that Glenn begins to regret not remembering the night before.

"Hey," Glenn croaks out as the man doesn't turn to acknowledge him, even though his shoulders are tense enough to show he has to know Glenn is there.

Glenn shuffles forward, coming up even with the man and looking down at the table that seems to have his attention held so raptly. He catches a side view of a stubbly face that makes him _really_ wish he remembered last night before the papers catch his attention.

They're official looking and he can plainly see his own signature on several lines. Puzzled, Glenn tilts his head to read the wordy language. He's so busy working through the legalized that it takes him longer than it should to figure out what it means. "Oh shit!"

A snort makes him look up into the bluest pair of eyes he's ever seen. The other man is grimacing at him as he says with a thick drawl that Glenn knows is Georgian, "No shit."

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His name is Daryl Dixon and he lives surprisingly close to Atlanta. He's 100% red-neck and very obviously in the closet. He barely looks at Glenn as they dress, and even blushes —just the tiniest bit— when Glenn gives him back his boxers. There are bruises on Glenn and marks on Daryl that make it very obvious what they'd done the night before, and Glenn finds himself really, really regretting not remembering it. Daryl doesn't mention them though so Glenn decides to be courteous about it. Even when the mark on his neck that had to be a hickey rubs the wrong way against the collar of his shirt.

It's takes about an hour to work out the logistics of the marriage. To track down the numbers for the right offices, and get a cab out there. Only to find out that, yes, they are legally married and there wasn't much they could do about that. All the paper work was signed and filed correctly, and the vows had even been carefully enunciated to the public official who hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary about them. Divorce was always an option, but it's going to be a costly one they're told. With nothing else left to do they took a quiet ride back to the hotel.

It's only as they enter that Glenn notices something about his apparent husband. Daryl lengthens his stride as they approach the door and holds it open for Glenn allowing him in first. Glenn blinks and realizes Daryl's been doing that all day. From the room door to the cab and to the court. It's a weirdly chivalrous act that really shouldn't make Glenn's gut twist the way it does. _No, bad,_ he scolds himself. They're royally screwed here enough as it is without unnecessary feelings getting in the way.

It's hard though. Daryl is gorgeous in his own rough way, and Glenn had always been a sucker for blue eyes.

"So….." Glenn says. The first word either of them has spoken since finding out they were in fact legally married and there was no mistake about it.

Daryl lets the door shut and looks at him briefly before he begins to pace. A nervous habit or just excess energy? Glenn isn't sure which, but he's noticed the man can't quite seem to keep still. "We'll get that divorce."

"Yeah, sure," Glenn agrees quickly, because really, what other option was there? "But-"

"What?" Daryl shot a glare at him. The man glared at everything though, or so Glenn was learning. It'd been very effective when dealing with the court officials who'd only been too glad to answer all their questions.

"Um, I don't have any money," Glenn admitted. Pizza delivery didn't earn him much, not even on the tips he got from really drunk people. "Took me a year to save up for this trip. What about you?"

Daryl cursed and spun around, looking ready to punch the wall, "I ain't got nothing left."

"Ok, ok," Glenn spoke quickly, mostly to avoid having to pay for damages they both couldn't afford. "We'll just save up, get a divorce back home, right? Might even be cheaper."

"It even work that way?" Daryl asked with a skeptical look.

He had no idea honestly. Gay marriage had never been something he'd bothered looking into before. Gay sex? Sure, but not marriage. "Yeah," he lies easily. "We'll just get the divorce in Atlanta."

"Be a while before I can get that sort of money together," Daryl admitted slowly.

"Yeah, me too," but it was totally doable. It might take half a year but Glenn could manage it. His mind already planning out extra-shifts. "We just won't tell anyone about it, alright?"

"Right," Daryl seemed to relax, his pacing becoming looser and loosing the bit of violent swagger it'd had before.

Right. Glenn looked around the room, at a loss as to what to do next. He wasn't due back at work for another three days, but had suddenly lost all interest in being in New York. His return flight wasn't for another two days though which left him stuck.

"I'm heading back today," Daryl interrupted his thoughts, and Glenn looked at the other man who wasn't looking at him. "I drove up here. I can drop you off at Atlanta."

It was a question, Glenn realized. One that he surprisingly wanted to take him up on. It was crazy but, hell, he was married to the man, why couldn't he take a cross-country ride from him. "Yeah, sure, thanks."

It's not until they're well on the road, a surprisingly easy silence stretching between them, that it even occurs to Glenn that they could just burn the papers and pretend nothing happened. The thought sticks in his mind uncomfortably though and he doesn't bother mentioning it to Daryl. Marriage shouldn't be that easy to undo after all. Drunken mistake or not.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: The reason Glenn survived the raid on Atlanta, his husband came and dragged his ass out before it happened.

In Sickness and Health  
by Fairady

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They argued for an hour in Glenn's apartment about leaving Atlanta.

How Daryl had found him so quickly after the news of the barricades falling had gotten out was beyond Glenn, but he refused to give into the hick's insistence that Glenn go out into the back woods with him. Glenn had a long policy of not going anywhere where banjos could be heard playing. It'd served him well in life so far and he wasn't about to let it go just because the dead were walking around.

Daryl ended the argument by physically picking Glenn up and carrying him down three flights of stairs to his beat up truck parked illegally on the street. He pointedly set Glenn back down on his feet before opening the passenger door and holding it open for him with a look on his face that dared Glenn to try and protest again.

Glenn set his feet —for all the good it would do him— and glared at his husband who was taking their half-remembered vows way too seriously. "You're not even going to let me pack anything?"

"I'll hit a Walmart on the way back," Daryl said with a barely there smirk. "Shouldn't of argued if ya wanted to pack. Get in before I throw ya in."

He would, the look on his face was set and stubborn. Glenn grudgingly climbed into the cab of the truck. Throwing a dirty look at the other man as the door was slammed shut rattling the entire vehicle. Daryl wasted no time jogging around to the drivers side and getting in. Putting the truck into drive as soon as he started it.

"Fine, but you're paying for it all," Glenn threw out as they made their way out of town. Daryl avoiding the major roads and wending through backstreets like he was a native of the city. Which Glenn knew for a fact he wasn't. The man had only been to Atlanta twice. Both times to see him.

"No," Daryl replied as he swerved around an abandoned check point. "Place's been abandoned already. We'll just take what you need."

"You mean loot it?" Not that Glenn had a problem with that per se. What he did have a problem with was that Daryl apparently thought a place that'd been left for the Walkers was safer than the city and it's military enforced barricades.

Daryl threw a look his way but didn't respond as they were waved through a still manned barricade. Concentrating on the local traffic that got heavier as they reached the edges of the city. Apparently he wasn't the only one who'd been spooked by the reports of barricades falling.

An exaggerated report from an increasingly unreliable news broadcast. Glenn didn't doubt that somewhere a barricade had been overrun. Walkers traveled in packs and eventually even the best trained men would be overwhelmed. What he doubted were the numbers that were being reported. The sudden tripling of Walker numbers just didn't fit with what Glenn had been seeing the past few days. It had to be the panicking of a reporter who suddenly found themselves at ground zero for a swarm.

Glenn was confident enough in his own plans that even if that number had been accurate he still would have been safe in his apartment for another two weeks. A lot longer than he'd last out in the back woods with Daryl and his oh-so-charming sounding brother.

Speaking of which, "What're we going to tell Merle anyway?"

They're a good twenty minutes out of the city and the traffic has thinned out. Most people turning to the highways once past the gridlock. Daryl is driving with one hand, the other hanging out the window. He licks his lips in that way that Glenn finds terribly distracting before answering, "Nothin'."

"And he'll buy that?" Sure, Glenn didn't have a high opinion of the intelligence of any man who was as prejudiced as Daryl had painted his brother, but he didn't think anyone could be that stupid. "Hey, big bro. Went to Atlanta and picked up my gay, Asian husband. Hope that's ok with you."

"That's not what-" The sudden flare of light took them both by surprise. "The hell?"

Glenn turned in the seat and looked back the way they'd come. Through the screen of trees they'd been passing through he could see the skyline just above the city. It was a bright orange. Daryl slowed down, checking the mirrors before pulling over.

"What the hell is that?" Glenn opened the door and jumped out, trying to see through the branches. A few other cars were already pulled over, people climbing out to peer at the sky uncertainly.

"Dunno," Daryl said.

Glenn turned as the other man strode past him into the treeline bordering the road. Glenn hesitated briefly before following him. They walked in silence through the dark before Daryl found what he wanted. A tall tree with low hanging branches that he grabbed and pulled himself up with. With quick, agile movements the man was halfway up the tree before Glenn realized what he was doing.

"Anything?" Glenn asked when he couldn't see Daryl or hear him moving. He shifted on his feet, looking around the woods and wondering if he should follow.

"You'd best be damn glad I got ya when I did," Glenn jumped as Daryl dropped out of the tree, branches snapping as he fell out a great deal less gracefully than he'd gone up. It was hard to tell in the dark but Glenn was sure the man looked pissed. "Atlanta's on fire."

"What?" Glenn blinked but didn't protest the hand that wrapped around his arm and started dragging him back to the truck. "What do you mean it's on fire?"

"Exactly what I said," Daryl replied unhelpfully. His head turned back once but the shadows were too thick to see through. "Looked like there was planes dropping stuff on the city."

An airstrike, or something. Glenn noted the information in the part of his brain that kept running even when things got bad and the rest of his mind sat in numbed shock. Numbers of casualties were run through even as a part of him was stuck on the horrified thought that he'd wanted to stay home.

"Get in," Daryl opened the door for him but didn't wait this time. Just walked around to the other side of the truck.

With one last look at the glowing sky, Glenn got in the truck.

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Nothing of importance here.

In Sickness and Health  
by Fairady

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"I'll tell him," Glenn said into the silence that follows as everyone tried hard not to look each other in the eyes. No one wanting to be the bearer of this particular bad news. It made Glenn feel a little angry on Daryl's behalf, even though he completely understands it.

Eyes snap up and he has the whole group's grateful attention. Glenn shrugged and pulled at his hat feeling awkward under the attention for once. "It'll sound better coming from me."

"I don't think that's such a great idea," Shane says in that authoritative tone he gets when he thinks he's doing something right. "It's be better coming from-"

"From what?" Glenn interjects and feels himself getting pissy at the awkward silence that follows. As one by one everyone around the fire looked away from him not saying anything. "From someone who's white? That what you think?"

"Glenn-" T-Dog starts up reluctantly, and God. Glenn doesn't want to do this now. Not with T-Dog's face still puffy from the beating Merle gave him.

It's easy to judge the Dixon's as a whole rather than two separate and completely different men. To be fair, Daryl didn't make it any easier with his temper or by playing up to the stereotype that Merle was. _Glenn_ wouldn't know better if it hadn't been for his own dumb luck.

Dumb luck. That's all it was. How else could he explain getting black-out drunk in New York of all places and waking up married to the only other gay, Georgian tourist in the state?

Not that Daryl would ever admit to being gay. Ever. And if Daryl was even half as bad as Merle, Glenn would've still been sporting a black eye for even mentioning that fact the morning after.

But he wasn't. He wasn't as bad as Merle, and not one person around the fire would believe that.

"I'll tell him," Glenn said firmly, ignoring the looks on the others' faces as he stood up. Pulling his hat low over his eyes even though it was too dark to deal with the blocked vision. "Trust me. This news'll sound better coming from his husband."

And then he walked away because he really didn't feel up to dealing with the inevitable confusion of everyone else. He had enough to do trying to plan ways to tell Daryl that wouldn't lead to some sort of fight with whoever he decided to blame for the whole thing.

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Nothing of importance here.

In Sickness and Health  
by Fairady

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"Merle!" Daryl yelled as he passed through camp swinging the bundle of dead squirrels like kids used to swing their bookbags after a long day of school. "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up."

Glenn followed the man slowly to the brothers' tent. Feeling the weight of eyes on him as the rest of the camp stopped and turned to watch. He really wished they'd show some sense and not do that. Daryl was going to be pissed enough as it was without having the entire camp watching.

Daryl hung the bundle on a stand of wood he'd cobbled together a few days earlier, and set his crossbow down next to the fire-pit. He kicked some loose rocks at the tent as he sat down. "Merle!"

Glenn took a breath and sat down next to the man, reminding himself of the key points he had to get through before Daryl lost his shit. And Daryl would lose his shit. There was no avoiding that. "Daryl."

The man glanced over at him. His eyes flicked briefly to the tent as his shoulders went stiff. It'd been an unspoken agreement between them to not talk to each other more than was necessary around Merle. For obvious reasons.

Daryl relaxed minutely and reached for one of the squirrels. Setting it on a cutting board Glenn had found on the last supply run. "What's up?"

And this was the tricky part. Daryl was the kind of guy who liked the band-aid ripped off quickly, but this news had to be broken slowly. "Merle found the stash."

Daryl paused, knife hovering over the squirrel a grim look settling over his face. It'd been Glenn's idea to hide the drugs, but Daryl had been the one to see his brother through the withdrawal symptoms. It'd been the smart thing to do. No one needed a drug addict around when there were Walkers to consider.

"And?" The knife was stabbed into the ground at Daryl's feet as he turned to give his full attention to Glenn for the first time. "Don't tell me that's all. Where's he at now?"

"He came along on the supply run. It got," Glenn had to look away staring instead at his hands and not Daryl's face, "It got bad, man. Merle lost his mind."

"He hurt you?" The question is short and low. Daryl obviously aware of their audience and, Glenn glanced at the man's face, not liking the attention one bit.

Daryl abruptly stood up and started pacing around the area. Throwing the occasional glare at the others. Glenn looked over his shoulder and met the steady gaze of Rick, standing next to the RV and making no secret he was listening in. Glenn turned back to look at Daryl pacing almost like a feral animal. Working himself up for an explosion.

"He pointed a gun at me," and the others, but they weren't as important at the moment. Not to Daryl. "Said we were doing things his way. We were surrounded by Walkers and he started pulling that crap. He was dangerous."

"So what!" One moment Daryl was across the fire from him, and the next he stood over Glenn. A tower of tight muscles and clenched fists, with suspiciously bright eyes. "Quit pussy footin' around it and tell me what happened!"

And there he goes, Glenn couldn't help the flinch at the shout.

"Easy, man," Rick spoke up for the first time, and the crunch of gravel told Glenn the other cop was about to step in.

Bad idea. Glenn spoke quickly, hoping to keep Daryl's attention on him, "We had to handcuff him and leave him behind. It was the only way, Daryl. Merle didn't give us any other option."

"You cuffed him?" Daryl stepped back and held very still. Looking between Glenn and Rick before settling on Rick with a glare. "You handcuffed him and left him behind?"

"He's safe," Glenn quickly interjected. Not liking the way Daryl was sizing Rick up for a fight. A fight he wouldn't win because Shane was lurking just out of the redneck's line of sight waiting to jump in if needed. It was amazing to see how Rick and Shane worked together, but, honestly, Glenn thought it couldn't have come in at a worse time. He stood up and deliberately stepped between Daryl and Rick. Breaking their stare down. "T-Dog set up a padlock on the door, no walkers are going to get him before we get back there."

Daryl stood still and silent for several seconds. Eyes blinking rapidly and Glenn knew better than to call him out on the brightness of his eyes. He turned away and marched straight for his crossbow. "When we leaving?"

"Soon," Glenn felt his shoulders relax and dared to let out a sigh of relief. The rough part was over. Now they just had to go out and get Merle back. After this? That was going to be the easy part.

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Nothing of importance here.

In Sickness and Health  
by Fairady

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"They know."

Glenn stared out the windshield and wondered if he should even bother pretending to not know what Daryl was talking about. A glance in the mirror showed him that Rick was being held up by Shane and not likely to come to his rescue anytime soon. Glenn didn't even know where T-Dog was. "Yeah. I kinda had to tell them."

"What'd you say?" Daryl asked with a derisive snort as he started pacing the back of the truck. "That you got drunk off yer ass and married some hick?"

"No!" Daryl was doing that thing again. The thing where he put words in Glenn's mouth to justify being angry. Glenn wasn't going to be part of that, not again. "I just said you were my husband. Anything else is none of their business."

"Damn right," Glenn could see Daryl briefly in the mirror as the other man stopped to look at the others. He wasn't exactly happy or relaxed, but he didn't look nearly as angry as he sounded. Or nearly as angry as he'd thought the man would be to be outed to the group. "The fuck're they doin', chatting?"

"They're just-" Glenn yelped as a foot shot past his shoulder and slammed onto the horn. "Jesus, Daryl!"

"Come on, let's go!" Daryl shouted out the back, clearly done with their conversation and ready to get his brother.

Glenn shook his head and turned the ignition on. The matter apparently settled to some degree of satisfaction in Daryl's twisted mind. Not that Glenn was going to argue about it. Not now at least.

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End file.
